ThePullenCount.com

In this installation, (Collapsed Utopia) the artist explores the decline of two diametrically opposed ideologies: The aspirational detached house, a product of Thatcher's ruthless social mobility, sits with a Soviet-era Yugoslavian-built Zastava decaying on its unkempt drive.  The juxtaposition of these emblems, sitting in leafy, well-heeled Edgbaston is stark, jarring; uneasy;  totemic of Birmingham's post-industrial decline.  Or summat. 

In previous international tournaments, England fans would proudly display the St George Cross from their cars and houses. Some would happily paint their faces and skin with the national colours. St George Cross headwear would be sported. Look around you now; there's a distinct difference; a noticeable lack of such adornments in the run up to the England v Croatia game. My theory: In the post Operation Raise The Colours world, people who previously would have sported the flag happily, innocently, as an expression of support for their team are now reluctant to do so, for fear of aligning themselves with the toxicity of that "movement". In essence; their violent, thuggish campaign to display more England flags has resulted in the exact opposite.  Those stating this isn't hooliganistic behaviour would do well to view this clip ; Charles Manbun Hooligan Skipping down a Brighton Street with his grim bunch of henchpeople, inviting his opposition to tell them what they are ...

The Briggs & Stratton XC35 Classic (2007 model year). At full chat, its single cylinder 4 stroke powerplant pumps out a heady 3.5hp, ensuring that when you're mowing a lawn, that lawn gets MOWED, and STAYS mowed (until the next time it needs mowing). WHAT a lawnmower.

My father is a picklesman, and his father before him, so I have mixed feelings about dropping this jar of Mr Pullen senior's pickled onions on the kitchen floor. They're salvagable, and their aroma will serve as a reminder of my picklesman heritage, like when I spilled a jar over the upholstery of my brand new company car. 

Mixed feelings as I begin the process of putting Disgraceland up for sale, marking an end to my diplomatic presence in the troubled  North Birmingham region. The property (the name of which was agreed upon  after the originally proposed name* was deemed to be beneath the dignity of the office) served as my official residence during my time as Lord Mayor of Pheasey, as well as my home, which I shared with Jez Alsop, before we consciously uncoupled: indeed, this portrait hung in the reception room, much to the delight of guests and tradespeople alike. Many parties and receptions were held, where the great and good, the not so good, the not too great, and the downright terrible mingled with luminaries and notable figures from North Birmingham's music, literary, journalism, mercantile, politics, philanthropy and arts scenes. Indeed, the terms of the Brilliant Thursday Peace Agreement between Pheasey and KS were agreed in its hallowed rooms. It was not unus...

Loving this flyer from Fast Eddie's, the "Premier Nightspot" formerly known as the Bella Pais. Situated on the Beacon Road, it served as a convenient late night meeting point where the young citizens of Pheasey, Streetly, Aldridge, Walsall and KS would convene to trade commodities, and participate in robust debate amongst the numerous pool tables and cues. Fun fact: Karaoke host "Mad Ian" is now in an institution for the criminally insane.  That's what I heard anyway. Flyer from the private collection of Pheasey Lewis